Chapter 54Notes:Merry Christmas to you all! :)
Chapter TextIt became apparent quite soon that time here didn't run at all as it did outside, in the sense that it was impossible to track by the movement of the sun, which didn't move at all, unless they themselves asked it to. Out of curiosity, Harry and Hermione "switched" day to night and back again several times, which was strange and creepy at first, but gradually ceased to be surprising, just like any other magic.
Forgetting everything in the world, they spent many hours on end, swimming naked, building sandcastles, collecting seashells, and chasing each other along the beach where, besides the two of them, there was no one else.
They had a picnic right by the water, finishing off almost ridiculously huge supplies of food from their tray until their stomachs were full again and they collapsed onto their backs, exposing their bellies to the warm rays and sighing contentedly.
Immersed in this incredible, drawn-out slumber, they kissed for a long time right in the water and made slow, sweet sex under the open sky, on top of a plaid blanket that appeared from thin air the moment they asked for it.
It was like a paradise created just for the two of them.
It was very hard to realise that, in reality, they were still inside Hogwarts, and that it was winter, not summer, and even harder to remember that someone, out there in the 'real' world, might be worrying about them or even consider them missing...
Gently parting Hermione's thighs, Harry entered her slowly and rocked smoothly, reaching the very depths as she gave him an inviting, Gioconda smile, looking up at him. He leaned down to her lips, leaving a deep, very long, and tender kiss, while her palms stroked his shoulder blades and neck, tousling the hair on the back of his head.
Harry didn't want to rush, as he had before, when it seemed they were always racing against time because they were too afraid to die. Instead, he wanted to savour every movement, every touch to her...
Their hips moved slowly against each other, pushing their bodies closer than ever before, as they swayed together drowsily, pressing their bellies and chests against each other. Harry's arms held Hermione by her shoulders and the back of her neck, and her legs were crossed behind his waist, holding him so tightly that he almost never left her at all.
"Such a strange day today..." Harry whispered, kissing Hermione's cheek.
"Mmm... really strange... but in a good way," she answered, stretching her neck to the side so he could kiss it there too.
"Yes, a very good one..." his lips touched her jugular vein, then her chin, and her cheek again. Her eyelids were closed, and Harry kissed them, one by one, before pressing his lips to hers, catching Hermione's sleepy smile.
It felt so good to be inside her – tight, snug, and hot, so wet for him. Her pussy enveloped his cock like a delightful, hot glove, designed to give him pleasure with every touch.
This time, Harry fucked her diligently, only speeding up slightly at times, then returning to almost complete stillness, slowly stoking Hermione's fire for long, long minutes... He tried to move as quietly as he ever had before, and it was incredibly good in its own way, because now he could leisurely commit every moment of their coupling to memory. He wanted to remember this for the future, because he suspected that very soon they wouldn't be able to spend time together so easily...
Wanting to absorb as many details as possible, he buried his nose in Hermione's curly hair and took a deep breath – she smelled of salt, and sweat, and musk, and hot sea sand... His mouth descended to her neck again – to where the jugular vein beat beneath the thin skin... He probably looked like a vampire from the side, about to bite his victim, if only vampires could be in the sun.
"Mmm... you smell so delicious, Hermione..."
He kissed the point of her pulse, then lightly nipped the thin skin with his teeth and immediately licked the spot with his tongue, making Hermione gasp convulsively. Rocking his hips a little harder, he hit her womb, drawing a low moan from her chest.
"I could do this forever... God, please, let this last forever..."
He tried not to think about anything that would come "after" – when they left this magical circle of power and were once again forced to confront all the cold and shit waiting outside. This was their personal time now, and Harry wasn't going to waste a single minute on empty regrets.
"Hermione?"
"Hmm?"
"I'd like to..."
"Of course, Harry," she smiled warmly at him, then reached out and stroked his cheek, so that he leaned against her for a moment, like a big cat, closing his eyes and enjoying her caress. "You can do it whenever you want. You don't have to ask."
He smiled sheepishly and withdrew from her, then moved so that his mouth was right in front of her breasts. He didn't know why he kept coming back to this again and again, but having once tasted her nipples, he just couldn't stop. Fortunately for him, Hermione didn't mind if he did it every time they made love, and Harry was endlessly grateful to her for it.
Today, he intended to enjoy it slowly and to the fullest, and so he first left a tiny, ticklish kiss on her ribs, making Hermione giggle and squirm. Emboldened by her reaction, Harry traced a path of little kisses to her soft stomach until he reached her navel. It was so small and cute – just a tiny, neat little hole that he carefully outlined with his tongue... He heard Hermione let out a muffled moan, and her hips thrust upwards involuntarily, and he knew he was on the right track.
Without stopping kissing her everywhere, he moved his right hand down to her crotch and began to stroke there, dipping his fingers into Hermione's already well-stretched vagina. Having some experience in this now, he confidently gathered her sticky wetness and teased the delicate little button of her clit, making Hermione's breathing falter, turning into louder and more frequent moans and rare cries when he managed to hit a particularly sensitive spot. At this sight, his own cock ached and dripped pre-come, pulsing with desire, but Harry paid it no mind – he had already come several times before and could wait a little longer. Right now, he wanted to focus on exploring Hermione's body – all the places he had thought about so much.
"Harry... ah, like that... yes, yes, right there... so good... oh..."
His fingers continued to play with her sweet little pussy, while his tongue licked her navel. He traced a wet trail up her ribs until he reached his main goal there – her girly titties with their protruding pink nipples. At the mere sight of them, his mouth involuntarily filled with saliva, and he swallowed hard, wondering which one he should approach first. In the end, he simply chose the right breast because it was closest.
"Patience... patience... oh... patience..." he chanted this mantra to himself, circling his tongue around her areola, tasting the salt and skin of Hermione, listening to her choke on air and babble incoherently as he did something incredible to her pussy and breasts.
His fingers down below began to move more insistently – and at that same moment, he finally lowered his mouth over her nipple, drawing it deep inside.
"Ah!"
Hermione's hips jerked hard, impaling herself on his middle and ring fingers, because she could no longer control herself. She needed to be fucked and brought to orgasm, and Harry, as best he could, tried to satisfy her desire, while also trying not to tear himself away from her tits.
Sucking wetly on the plump nipple, he began to thrust into Hermione with his fingers, mimicking the way his cock usually moved and feeling the tight ring of her muscles clench his knuckles. This was still new to him – realising how subtly she reacted to his every touch, be it gentle or rough, how pliable she was to his influence, and how much her body needed his soft, careful encouragement.
She was so fragile and in need of his attention, and at the same time, she clearly liked it when he pounded into her with force, grabbing the skin of her hips with his fingers almost to the point of bruising at the peak of their intimacy. There were so many elusive, hidden little details in her body and reactions that he had to recognise if he wanted to bring her and himself to true bliss...
Now, wiser with experience, Harry marvelled that they had managed to do it at all their very first time. He couldn't believe how rough he had been. She had been so dry that time, and he, what an idiot, hadn't even suspected it could be any different...
Of course, he had no way of knowing. Back then, he didn't have a whole damn library of bawdy literature and Muggle manuals on hand to enlighten him and teach him how to properly arouse a girl. If only he could turn back time... but that was impossible, so Harry was trying to make up for it now, making Hermione come again and again under him – from his cock, his fingers... and maybe now it was time to do it with his lips?
This thought hadn't come from nowhere – in fact, it had been brewing in his head for some time, and the longer it went on, the more Harry wanted to try... But first, he was going to finish what he had started here. Fortunately for them both, Hermione could come much more often than he could, so they still had plenty of time to try everything he had planned.
The faster and harder Harry fucked her with his fingers, the more she arched towards him, and the stronger the heavy scent of her arousal became. She was so wet that soon Harry was even able to add a third finger without any trouble. His thumb fumbled a little bit awkwardly over her clit, trying to move in circles, which didn't always work, but he was trying his best. His wrist ached from the unfamiliar exertion, but he endured it to the last because it was worth it.
His mouth moved from one of her breasts to the other and back, sucking and nibbling, while one of Hermione's hands stroked his hair and the other hugged his shoulders, rubbing his back as if he were a giant baby. Melting under this almost maternal caress, Harry literally purred. His wet cock pressed against Hermione's thigh, leaving sticky trails on it – he was so aroused…
Changing the angle slightly, Harry began to push his fingers even deeper into Hermione's vagina, to the full length of his knuckles, hitting her as fast and hard as he could.
"A-ah! Harry! A-a-ah! Like that! Like that! Harry-yyy!.."
It wasn't a few minutes before her body gave a large shudder, and she came severely with a desperate cry, trembling and sobbing in his arms.
After she collapsed back onto the blanket, Harry kept his fingers inside for a while longer, well remembering how unpleasant it could be in the first seconds after an orgasm. In such moments, they were both overly sensitive, so even the slightest touch to their genitals brought pain rather than pleasure, and so he just lay next to Hermione, kissing her damp shoulder soothingly and giving her time to recover.
For almost another whole minute after the "explosion", her inner muscles continued to convulsively clench his hand until, finally, Hermione's breathing evened out and she relaxed completely.
"Thank you," she whispered, then opened her eyes, looking at him with such an expression that Harry's heart did a somersault and began to beat fast. Pulling him by the shoulders, she kissed him hotly, trying to pour all the gratitude and happiness she felt into the gesture.
"Of course," he replied into her lips. "It's my pleasure..."
* * *
Harry was still very much erected and, basically, could have finished himself off, but that would have been... wrong, perhaps. It was better for him to wait until Hermione wanted to continue... which would probably happen in just a few minutes – unlike him, she recovered really quickly.
It was really hard for both of them to get enough of each other now that all the barriers – which had been, mostly, in their own heads – had finally disappeared, so Harry didn't doubt for a second that she would definitely want more.
In the meantime, he could simply continue tracing invisible paths over her body, kissing every patch of her exposed skin – that is, essentially, everywhere he could reach from his angle. Without overthinking it, he simply started again with his favourite area – her tits, gradually moving to her navel, and then a little lower, touching his lips to the prominent bones of her hips and just a little bit further... He moved tentatively, like a careful hunter stalking a very shy and clever prey, not because he still thought Hermione was capable of being frightened by anything he did. He just didn't want to miss a single spot on her body where his lips hadn't yet been.
With a contented sigh, Hermione spread her knees wider, allowing him to kiss the inside of her thighs, tracing wet trails up and down with his tongue, nibbling here and there to leave tiny marks, moving closer and closer to her very centre...
She was so beautiful – literally everywhere, and even between her legs... Especially between her legs...
Harry stared at that narrow girlish pussy, shamelessly displayed before him, with hunger, greed, and reverence. He simply couldn't believe his luck and didn't understand how something so wonderful and intimate had been given to him... How could he be so fortunate? He had never been lucky at anything before, but now he had suddenly been given Hermione and her lovely, wonderful pussy for his permanent use, like a precious gift... and he was going to treat it accordingly, that's for sure!
It was astonishing how much joy and pleasure this little bud of soft pink flesh gave him... how good it felt on his hard shaft when Harry plunged into it again and again...
Sometimes, in moments of doubt, the thought would flash through his mind that maybe there was something wrong with him? Because he felt like an addict... As if all earthly happiness for him was now located between Hermione's legs, and he could never seem to satisfy his hunger for her, no matter how many times he fucked her, impaling her on his cock and coming inside her, again and again asserting his rights to her.
"Harry..." her hoarse call made him start and shake the strange thoughts from his head, thoughts likely caused by his usual, eternal self-doubt.
In a fit of curiosity and a thirst for exploration, Harry leaned lower over Hermione's vagina, inhaling her scent deeply...
"Mione..." he breathed her name right into it, literally a couple of centimetres from her labia, letting her feel it. He saw her muscles clench convulsively and her clit pulse in response.
"If I lick her right now... there's nothing wrong with that, is there? A lot of people do stuff like this..."
He was still a little embarrassed by the thought of touching Hermione right where she peed, not to mention that not far from there was the place from where she... erm... In short, this was still a barrier for him, but he had already come so far, and Hermione was still waiting for his next move... It would be awkward if he backed out right now, wouldn't it?
"We both showered not long ago, and after that, we've swum in the sea many times. And she doesn't smell at all unpleasant down there…"
That was true. Hermione smelled damp and sweet, but not sweet like caramel or other desserts, but more like... fruit or delicate flowers, but more earthy and deep... and more primal, and strong, and...
And she smelled of clean.
Leaning over her even lower and opening his mouth, Harry felt in his gut that he was doing the right thing. After all, he had read about it and knew that adults really often did this – touched each other there with their mouths to give each other pleasure. And while it didn't directly lead to conceiving a child, which was still his and Hermione's main goal, could anything bad happen if he just gave her and himself a little pleasure in a different way than with his cock?
"Har..." she choked on air as Harry's lips, without warning, noisily sucked her clit – just as he had done with her nipples earlier.
"Oh, wow…"
She tasted like the sea.
Like the sun.
Salty and sweet at the same time.
Viscous, slick, and juicy. Flowing copiously and incredibly tender, pulsing with excitement in his mouth like some amazing living fruit.
In fact, she vaguely resembled those same oysters he'd eaten before, only better... which was rather amusing, considering she hated them.
"Unusual... but not unpleasant," he decided, after running his tongue over her wet flesh a little more to get a better taste. "Almost… tasty? Hmm… I just need to get used to it, that's all..."
Buoyed by this thought, Harry started working his mouth more actively, making full use of his tongue to move it in circles, then back and forth and up and down, rubbing and hitting Hermione's clit like it was a tiny punching bag. He was still a little nervous and clumsy, but he more than made up for it with diligence – and the fruits of his labour were not long in coming.
Within just three minutes, Hermione became so uncontrollable that he had to place his palms on her hips and press her firmly to the blanket, just to keep from being suffocated by her thighs. Her hands instinctively found his tufts of hair and gripped them tightly, roughly pulling his head closer to her crotch.
"F-fuck... that hurts!"
"A-ah... a-a-ah... Harry... a-ah... Harry! Harry!.."
She screamed his name into the open air at full volume and thrashed beneath him, like an enraged horse. Her moans were so unrestrained and loud that if anyone heard her now, that person would surely think someone was attacking and torturing her, though nothing could be further from the truth. Harry could tell how good she felt by how copiously she was flowing. He already recognised the familiar tremor running through her muscles and knew she was about to come.
"She's so responsive... Oh, fuck... So hot... Shit, I want her to do it right now!.."
Ignoring the pain on the skin of his head, Harry opened his jaw as wide as possible and pressed his face hard into Hermione's crotch, so his nose was buried in her pubic area. He worked his tongue rapidly, literally raping her pussy with his mouth.
"Harry... oh, god... Harry! Oh, fuck... OH, FUCK!" she shrieked, arching like a bow and trembling, convulsing and choking in the ecstatic spasm that gripped her.
A stream of warm fluid gushed from her cunt straight into Harry's mouth as her thighs crushed his ears, almost making him pass out. Caught in a slight panic, he swallowed reflexively, completely stunned by the force and fury with which she came under him, continuing to moan hoarsely and swear, pressing her vagina into his face until she finally collapsed back onto the blanket, utterly exhausted, breathing fast and hoarsely, like a hunted animal.
"Oh, fuck... o-oh... fucking god... o-o-oh..."
* * *
They both lay flat on top of one another, seriously stunned by what had happened, completely soaked with sweat and utterly exhausted. Harry thought for a moment he'd blacked out for a few seconds… at least, his vision had definitely gone black at some point – probably when she'd squeezed him particularly hard, almost cutting off his carotid artery.
"Bloody hell…"
When he'd read about cunnilingus – what a word! – in magazines, he'd of course expected a certain effect, but for it to be like this…
Holy fuck. No wonder the author of those articles had been so sure of himself. If all women came that hard from oral sex, you could only envy them…
Harry glanced down at his cock – still hard and standing upright, and now painfully purple too, throbbing so much he looked like some cartoon firecracker about to go off, only in his case it wasn't funny in the slightest.
Ah, if only someone would give him a blowjob too… Well, never mind. Hermione was clearly in no state to "return the favour" right now, and Harry himself would probably just come on her face at the mere sight of her mouth near his manhood…
Hmm… So, what to do? He couldn't just leave things as they were, but he didn't want to take matters into his own hands…
"Hermio-o-one…" he called out as pitifully as he could, extricating himself from the prison of her legs, now completely limp and splayed weakly to the sides, like a dead frog's. She was absolutely exhausted.
"Mmm?" she responded listlessly. Her arms were thrown up over her face, shielding it from the blinding sun, and she was completely soaked with sweat, just like Harry.
"Well, I'm still… er…" he mumbled, trailing off with a pained wince, because with every passing minute his condition was becoming more and more uncomfortable.
He sincerely believed that if he didn't come soon, it might have some terrible long-term consequences for him.
"Yeah, go on," Hermione waved a hand dismissively somewhere downwards, still without opening her eyes.
It sounded almost indifferent, but Harry wasn't even offended. On the contrary, he was incredibly proud of himself right now, because this was the first time he'd gone down on her – and such a staggering success right off the bat!
The taste of her orgasm was still coating his mouth, like a symbol of victory…
This time he didn't even need to prepare her for penetration – she was already wide open and incredibly wet, so his cock slipped all the way to the hilt with the slightest of ease.
The moment it happened, Harry let out a soft groan of relief, still mixed with a hint of pain, because he had waited for and wanted this moment for far too long.
Still floating on the waves of post-orgasmic bliss, Hermione barely reacted to the intrusion. A couple of minutes later, however, she did pull her knees up higher and spread them a little wider, invitingly opening herself up to him, which was rather sweet of her. Harry was quite tired from all the previous hard work while trying to please her, and was now grateful for any help.
He began to rock gently on her, opening her already pliant walls a little wider with each thrust, feeling better and better…
Of course, after such a long foreplay, it didn't take him long to finish. Just a few minutes of deep, hard thrusts – and he was ejaculating profusely inside her with a sharp cry, trembling from a mixture of pleasure and colossal relief. He groaned, exhausted, collapsing onto Hermione and letting her soothingly stroke his shoulders as his balls continued to convulse, pumping the last of his seed into her.
Every muscle and even bone in his body ached with fatigue, but his jaw was especially sore – he only now felt it in full force when he tried to kiss Hermione out of habit, and it sent a pang of pain through his entire bloody face.
He had really pushed past all his limits this time…
Rolling onto his side with Hermione, Harry continued to keep his softening cock warm in her tender pussy, enjoying the post-coital contentment and an unprecedented clarity of mind. His life was pretty good right now – as good as it could possibly be, all things considered.
He'd started the year as a fairly ordinary second-year… or, well, perhaps not so ordinary, since not many of them fly to school in a magical car and crash straight into a bloody Whomping Willow. And yet, aside from a few minor incidents like searching for the Philosopher's Stone and fighting Voldemort, his existence had been quite unremarkable until recently.
And then those horrible rumours had started circulating around the school, and Justin had been petrified, and Hermione had started fearing for her life, and they'd performed the Ritual that changed their fates forever…
And now Harry – still just a second-year – had already acquired a young wife, with whom he was now having sex around the clock in various positions in a magical room temporarily turned into a beach. It was enough to make one lose their head!
And they still were both still so young…
"Mum was young, too, when she had me. They were about eighteen then, her and Dad? Or seventeen?"
Harry had never thought about his parents in that way before, but essentially, they had been practically children themselves when they conceived him. It might have even happened while they were still at Hogwarts… That, of course, wasn't the same as having a baby at twelve, but it was pretty close.
He wondered what they would say if they were here now and found out their son was already married and about to become a father before he'd even made it to his third year?
What would they think of Hermione as his wife? They'd probably like her… How could they not? Everyone liked Hermione. Well… everyone who knew her well enough. And who wasn't too stupid or jealous to be intimidated by her intelligence and magical abilities…
Harry glanced over at Hermione, dozing peacefully in his arms, and couldn't help but break into a proud smile. She was so wonderful! His smart, talented, strong, beautiful, and very, very hot girlfriend… his wife.
"Wife. I really like the sound of that… Hermione is my wife. My wife!" he repeated the word in his head in different ways, and it sounded better and better each time.
So far, he was very much enjoying being married… especially the sex part, if he was being honest. Though that, of course, wasn't the main thing. Harry wasn't so primitive as to think that was all there was to it, but he knew how to enjoy the happy moments when they came.
The way Hermione handled him during their cuddles and kisses spoke far louder than any verbal declaration of love. When she opened herself to him – literally and figuratively – Harry felt more loved and accepted than he ever had before.
She was kind to him – all the time, even when he messed up… She was patient with him, and passionate, and always open to new things, with a strong desire to learn alongside him, and such close, daily interaction with her brought Harry true happiness.
She really did love him…
Harry knew, somehow, that his parents, were they alive, would have surely loved and accepted her too, as if she were their own daughter. They would have understood what a good person she was…
And yet, how would his parents have reacted to him being bound forever to a girl who, until recently, had been just his friend? Would they have considered it madness and foolishness? Would they have shouted at him? Or, on the contrary, would they have tried to understand and support him?
"What are you thinking about?" Hermione asked after a while, quietly intruding on his tangled thoughts. Her brown eyes, opposite his green ones, were warm, as were her embrace, which she wrapped around Harry from all sides.
"I'm thinking about you. About us," Harry answered honestly. "You're my girlfriend… but you're also my wife now. It's just… it feels different, you know. Sometimes it's just hard… But I still like it. Is it bad that I feel… happy when I think about us being married? Am I selfish?"
"No. Of course not," she shook her head, because she truly understood him in this like no one else. "I feel it too… I'm still scared and it's strange sometimes, but at the same time, I'm glad."
"It's all so confusing…"
"Yeah…"
Apparently, Hermione had mulled this over many times as well, trying to get used to the fact that Harry was not just her boyfriend, but her husband – with all that entailed.
What they were doing here together wasn't just some meaningless sex between two teenagers in love too early. They weren't fucking just because they were aroused – well, not only because they were aroused – but because they were fulfilling their marital duty.
This was all much more serious than if they had simply fallen in love and started having a sex life, because it went far beyond emotions. First and foremost, they were bound by duty – something far less romantic and much more serious than teenage puppy love or even adult love. And they would have to carry this duty for life, whether they wanted to or not… Even if their feelings changed at some point in the future, it wouldn't matter, because they still wouldn't be able to separate.
Honestly, it was truly terrifying. Could one really be with someone for their entire life? Love someone for their entire life?
And yet, they now simply had no choice but to do it for the rest of their days. It was up to them whether this whole thing would be a "pleasant ride" or, in the end, turn into a complete nightmare for both of them…
"When Dad married Mum, did they also plan on being together for many, many more years?" Harry couldn't stop thinking about it, trying to find an answer to his own similar question. The fact that he himself hadn't had a real choice didn't stop him from turning it over in his head.
When James Potter and Lily Evans exchanged rings and vows, did they understand that they would truly be together until the end of their days? If they hadn't taken marriage seriously, they wouldn't have tied themselves to its bonds in the first place, right? Of course, their marriage and the marriage Harry had with Hermione were seriously different from each other, but still…
"I'm thinking about how my parents got married," Harry continued after a couple of minutes, because Hermione was still silent and didn't rush him, understanding that he needed to get it out. "What would they say about all of this?" he nodded at their naked bodies, still joined together. "About us… or me. They would probably be… disappointed in me?" he forced out.
"Why do you think that?"
"I was just trying to imagine how I'd feel in their place, you know? If my son… or daughter did something like that… something that nasty," he winced as he realised how that might have sounded to her. "I mean, I don't think you are nasty! And I don't regret marrying you! On the contrary, I'm very glad, and I love you. It's just…"
"Too soon."
"Yeah. And I think my parents would be disappointed that I let this happen… because I got myself in so deep and dragged you into it too."
"Hey, you didn't drag me into anything…" she began out of habit, but Harry shook his head bitterly.
"I don't think they would have seen it that way."
He closed his eyes and sighed, feeling truly tired this time, and not just physically. What, just fifteen minutes ago, had been a space of happiness and bliss for him was somehow, unnoticed, turning back into anxiety, and he had absolutely no idea how to deal with it. He was so tired of these emotional rollercoasters that his stupid brain was always putting him on… He just wanted some stability, just for once, that's all.
Right now, he wasn't sure of anything anymore.
"I… don't know, Harry," Hermione said softly. "Maybe you're right, but… for some reason, I don't think so. I think they'd understand, eventually."
"The same way your parents 'understood'?" he snapped irritably, without thinking.
That was low. And, besides, it wasn't even true, because the Grangers hadn't disowned Hermione and were genuinely trying to understand her. They just didn't want to let her go back to Hogwarts because they thought it would be unsafe for her – and who could blame them for that? – but they hadn't thrown her out of their lives. Bloody hell, they'd even been prepared to take Harry in if it came to it!
"Sorry," he mumbled sullenly. "I was rude."
"It's okay," Hermione gave a wry smile, forgiving him generously, because she had learned him too well to be truly offended.
She knew Harry hadn't said it out of malice, but simply because he was too confused by everything that was happening to them. They were both constantly lurching back and forth, one minute engulfed in pure ecstasy, the next, already falling back into the black maw of depression.
"Thank you," he said about another five minutes later, his tone serious.
"For what?"
"For showing me all of this... Your grandparents' house. The sea..."
"Oh... It was my pleasure," she returned his smile, letting a playful note creep into it. After a moment's thought, she added, "By the way, I'd like to say thank you, too, for showing me... how it can be."
"Huh?"
"Your... uh... mouth. I mean..." she suddenly flustered and turned away from him, hiding her eyes, which instantly lifted Harry's spirits.
"Did you like it?" he asked with keen interest, genuinely concerned by her answer.
"Did I like it?" her eyebrows shot up and her mouth fell open comically. "Harry, it was... you... how you..." she trailed off, unsure how to phrase it.
"Did I rock your world?" he was now grinning widely at her, very pleased with himself for having literally rendered her speechless.
Hermione snorted sarcastically, rolling her eyes, though her own cheeks were now flaming.
"Don't get cocky," she grumbled.
"Oh, come on, just admit it..."
Chuckling, Harry pulled her to him and began to shower her face and neck with kisses while she tried to fend him off, though not very convincingly. When he flipped her onto her back and started to tickle her ribs, Hermione couldn't hold out any longer:
"Alright, alright! Fine! You rocked my world! I don't think I'll ever be able to stand again because my legs have turned to jelly! Are you happy now?!"
"Very happy," he laughed and finally let her go, flopping onto his back as well.
They spent the rest of the day on the beach, mentally wishing for the sun to set, and then just went back to bed once it was completely dark.
Some people might be looking for them right now, or maybe they weren't, but Harry and Hermione had just decided to deal with that... sometime later. It had been a long and emotional couple of days – or a long and emotional month, to be precise – and they deserved a break.
Chapter 55Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextIt had been a truly delightful and absolutely bonkers two days, filled to the brim with pleasure and languor, as well as getting to know each other and themselves, but alas, it was time for her and Harry to return to where they had come from.
Hermione closed the door with immense regret, leaving the "beach paradise" behind and reluctantly returning to the dusty and far less pleasant space of the "endless library". Of course, they could have simply left the Room immediately, but both of them were subconsciously putting off that moment for as long as they could.
"Madam Pomfrey is probably furious with us..."
Hermione could picture the elderly witch's worried and disappointed face, her lips pursed and her brows sternly furrowed. She would surely want to give them a piece of her mind for disappearing off to who-knows-where for nearly three days without a word. They'd probably already started looking for her and Harry... Although, this time, that glowing bird with a message from Professor Dumbledore hadn't arrived, so perhaps things weren't so bad after all, and they wouldn't be told off too severely.
However "adult" and independent Hermione felt now (or thought she felt), she was not prepared for a confrontation with the school administration, especially with the headmaster who decided whether she could continue her education at Hogwarts or be sent back to the Muggles. And she certainly did not want to be on bad terms with the only mediwitch who was aware of her "little marital problem".
Speaking of "marital problems"...
"Harry?"
"Yes?"
Hermione faltered, a sudden nervousness seizing her at the thought that had just popped into her head, even though it wasn't entirely unexpected. In fact, it would be very much expected, one might even say long-awaited... But she still couldn't stop a fine tremor that made her hastily shove her hands into the pockets of her jeans.
"What is it? What's wrong?" Harry looked at her in alarm. "You've gone pale... Wait, are you having another attack?!" He was instantly beside her again, grabbing her hands and peering anxiously into her eyes.
"No-no, it's not that at all!" Hermione hastened to reassure him. "I feel fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. In fact, I feel very healthy and... um... strong. I don't think I've ever felt better."
"Oh... well... okay then," he didn't sound convinced and was still anxiously scanning her from head to toe for any signs of illness she might be hiding.
"Fair enough," she thought. She had genuinely frightened him, and everyone else, including herself, last time.
"But... are you sure you're alright?" he double-checked, as Hermione still hadn't moved.
"That's just it, you see?" a nervous laugh escaped her throat.
"Er... no, to be honest, not quite."
"Oh, God..." she let out a noisy sigh, trying to fight the tremor and shamefully losing the battle. "Harry, I think... The way I've been feeling today... I think I might already be..."
Her voice failed from the strain, and she couldn't finish the sentence. Hermione bit her lower lip, almost to the point of pain, and hugged herself, trying to distance herself from the idea that had taken up firm residence in her mind and was growing there, taking on clearer and more distinct shapes the longer she thought about it.
Considering how many times she and Harry had had penetrative sex in those two days...
And she had told him the absolute truth – she had truly never felt better physically. If she tried to do magic now, she would probably find that her magical powers were more than fine, too...
And that, in fact, was what scared her the most. Because there was only one sensible and logical explanation for her current state...
"But this is what I wanted, isn't it? If this has really happened, then Harry and I are out of danger. So this is good... right? Right?!"
Hermione's thoughts scurried like frantic mice in a tin can as she continued to stare at Harry with desperation in her eyes, not daring to voice her suspicion. As if saying it aloud would make it real for certain.
"You…" Harry began and faltered, as the realisation gradually dawned on him too. He nervously licked his lips. "Are you trying to say that..."
She gave a wooden nod.
"Oh. Oh! Oh, bloody hell. Right. Shit."
"Y-yes..."
"Oh, crap. Fuck," he was clearly struggling to come up with something other than swear words. "Are you sure?"
"What? No," she stared at him with growing irritation, nervously wringing her fingers. "No, of course I'm not sure! How can I be sure?! How can anyone be sure?!"
"Okay, don't panic. Don't snap at him. Breathe deeply. Stay calm... Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out... You are perfectly calm... Breathe in, breathe out..."
It wasn't helping much.
Hermione tried to breathe and count to herself while Harry stood opposite her, still gaping in complete confusion. She could literally hear his internal scream, echoing her own.
"Right. Okay. Then I think you... er... we should test it!" he finally said, nodding to himself.
"Good idea!" Hermione nodded fervently as well.
Her own mind was completely refusing to work right now, unable to produce even the simplest ideas due to the colossal weight of her emotions, so she was glad that at least one of them was still capable of generating solutions.
"The hospital wing?" Harry suggested.
"Yes!" Hermione exclaimed, then her eyes flew wide open in alarm: "No!"
"No?"
"No! I can't..."
"What? But..."
She felt very uneasy. Hermione didn't fully understand why she was so against going to the Hospital Wing right now, she just knew she didn't want to, and that was that.
"I don't want anyone else to know, if... if it's true. Not yet," she tried to explain, as Harry was starting to panic beside her too, judging by his dilated pupils and quickening breath. "I... I don't know why, I... but... just... god, this is a nightmare! I'm going to be sick!..."
Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth, growing even paler as her stomach suddenly clenched into a knot and leaped into her throat. Clenching her teeth, she fought with all her might against the wave of bile rising from within.
"Why am I already nauseous?! It's too early!" her inner voice shrieked. "I don't even know for sure if I'm pre..."
Now she was hyperventilating. She was definitely hyperventilating.
"Right. Well. Okay... We need to think..." Harry began pacing back and forth, muttering to himself. "We need to... we need to check this ourselves, yeah? Okay. We'll check ourselves, and then we'll go to the Hospital Wing... That is, if you're ready, okay?"
"O-okay..." Hermione replied weakly. Her previous bout of nausea had passed as suddenly as it had started, so it was most likely just nerves after all.
"We don't know anything for sure yet," she tried to think rationally. "It's just a suspicion. Like Harry said, we need to verify everything first... Oh, God. What if it's true?!"
"Right. Cool," she nodded, trying very hard not to look like a hysterical mess. "So..."
"How do we check this?" Hermione tried to strain her memory and force her brain to work as it normally did, which was very difficult. She could hear the thumping of her own heart in her ears, and she was feeling a bit nauseous again, so she could only gaze distractedly around her.
It was so dusty and dark in here, and the shelves stretched back seemingly endlessly...
"The shelves... BOOKS! Of course! What on earth is wrong with me today?!"
"I need a book about how to check for p... pregnancy," she commanded aloud, stumbling only slightly on the last word.
As it had many times before, the Room obligingly shot a whole stack of literature in her direction, ranging from wizarding tomes to Muggle sources. Surrounded by them, Hermione and Harry sat for almost another hour, after which it was decided to settle on three most reliable options: a potion, a spell, and finally, a standard Muggle pregnancy test.
"But how will we make the potion if we don't have the ingredients?" Harry asked after Hermione had copied the recipe onto a separate piece of parchment.
It was a reasonable question, actually.
For a moment, a clear picture of Professor Snape's pantry popped into Hermione's head, but she quickly dismissed it – mainly because she didn't believe they could pull that trick off twice. And besides, it was just wrong – stealing from a man who had brewed potions for her and Harry so many times over the past month. Whatever Hermione's personal feelings about Snape himself, she couldn't help but feel grateful for his efforts. He could be a very cruel man and a big loud bully who loved to insult others, especially those who couldn't answer back due to their age and social status, but he still cared enough about his students to forgot sleep, standing over a cauldron all night to cure them, even though it wasn't strictly his duty.
So, if the Potions Master's personal stores were off-limits, where were they to get the ingredients? There were several items that definitely wouldn't be in a standard second-year student's kit, mainly because they were rather expensive...
"I've got it!" Harry exclaimed. "The Room can make the potion for us!"
"Hmm..." Hermione raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I don't think that'll work."
"Why not? Potions aren't food or water."
"Yes, but we still take most of them internally."
"But it's a magical... uh... substance. Like these books, only in liquid form. I mean, a potion is meant to do something, right? So, as long as we don't leave the Room, it should work."
There was some very strange, but still logic to it, which Hermione couldn't deny.
"Let's just summon the potion and see?" Harry continued to persuade her, seeing that she was still hesitating. "And then we can try the spell just in case. What have we got to lose, either way?"
"Nothing..."
"Exactly. Let's give it a try!"
And so they did.
The potion they needed had an unpleasant murky-white colour and smelled exactly like curdled cow's milk. The good news was that neither of them had to drink it. All that was required was to add a drop of Hermione's blood, then wait about fifteen minutes to see if it changed colour. Yellow for not pregnant, blue for pregnant. Seemed simple enough, but not exactly quick...
Hermione had no idea what to do with herself after pricking her finger and shaking a drop of blood into the vial. Harry sat next to her with a blank expression, staring fixedly at the vial and nervously twitching his leg.
The silence pressed in on their ears more heavily the more time passed...
"Oh God, I can't do this anymore. Why is it taking so long?!"
Waving her wand, Hermione double-checked the magical timer, but it said only 10 minutes and 23 seconds had passed. It was still too early for a result... Or perhaps the potion would never change colour at all, because it doesn't work, or because she still wasn't...
"Hermione!" Harry called, a little panicked. "It's..."
Blue. The potion was BLUE.
"Oh, bloody hell."
"I..." Hermione swallowed hard. Her nausea returned with a vengeance. "Harry, I think… I might be pregnant."
* * *
If they were in some silly romantic comedy, this would be the moment for confetti to shoot out, or for someone to yell "APRIL FOOL!", or something equally absurd, but they weren't in a romantic comedy, so nothing happened. They both continued to stare holes into the damn potion vial, which was now a deep, rich blue, swirling and shimmering through the glass as if mocking the two teenagers.
"Oh, God..." Harry breathed out loudly and shifted in his chair, rubbing his face with his hands. "Right. Well, okay... So, the spell next, right?"
"Yes. We need to be sure," Hermione replied hoarsely.
"Right..."
The Lumen Maternitatis spell was not difficult to learn and didn't take much energy, but Hermione couldn't use it on herself – for some reason, it had to be magic from an external source. So they spent more time teaching Harry the proper wand movement and letting him practice on a couple of dummies, because Hermione didn't want him to accidentally turn her into a guinea pig or harm... it, if it was there in her belly right now.
"Here you have to make a sharp lunge to the right, and then draw a figure-eight at a thirty-degree angle..."
He nodded silently and diligently copied her movement, pointing the tip of his wand at the dummy and muttering the incantation.
"No! You're putting the emphasis on the last 'i', but it's on the 'a'!"
"Look, I'm trying..."
"Then try harder!" she barked, unable to stop herself, because this was his tenth or eleventh attempt.
Her nerves were like shit. This whole situation was like shit. And so was her whole life.
"Sorry," she pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes for a couple of seconds and pressing hard. "I didn't mean to..."
"It's alright. I'll just do it again, okay?"
"Okay."
Hermione tried not to get angry anymore, because she could see he was really trying, and on about the twentieth attempt, he finally managed to hit the dummy with a pale violet jet of light.
"I got it!" he smiled, pleased with himself for learning a new spell and for a brief moment forgetting why it was needed. But then his smile faded just as quickly, and he looked nervously at Hermione again.
"Good job," she gave him a weak smile in return, then nodded. "Now... do me."
"Okay... Are you ready?"
"Yes."
"Lumen Maternitatis!"
A warm cloud of his magic enveloped her from all sides, momentarily blinding her, and then was absorbed completely into her body. Listening to herself, Hermione tried to feel something, but it was impossible – the result of this particular spell could also only be seen by the caster themselves.
"Well? Do you see anything unusual?" she asked cautiously, as Harry stared at her with wide eyes.
He didn't answer right away, but Hermione already had a sinking feeling she knew what it would be, judging by the way he was gawking at her abdomen.
"Oh..."
"Hermione..." he croaked, giving her a very uncertain smile, "I think... we're in."
"Bloody marvellous."
"Hermione?"
Her stomach did a somersault, leaping into her throat, and the next second she was vomiting bile all over the floor.
"Are you okay?!" Harry was immediately beside her, supporting her shoulders as she swayed.
"Y-yes... I just..." she was sick again, this time all over Harry's shoes.
"Breathe... just breathe... that's it... it's okay..." he helped Hermione back to her armchair. "Want some water?"
"T-thanks..."
After a glass of cool water, she felt a little better, though the floor still seemed to sway slightly under her feet and a thin ringing sounded in her ears. Her blood sugar had probably dropped, as she hadn't eaten anything more substantial than fruits and berries since yesterday morning, because she'd forbidden Harry from bothering Dobby over every little thing. She regretted that now, as her body was clearly lacking nutrition, though the thought of putting anything in her mouth right now seemed disgusting.
"How are you?" Harry peered into her eyes, kneeling in front of her and holding her hands in his.
"Better... Thanks," she answered truthfully. "Sorry I scared you."
"Don't apologize. This is all very... shocking."
"Yeah..."
Hermione's chair stretched beneath her, transforming into a two-seater sofa to accommodate Harry as well. He sat down beside her, putting his arm around her shoulders, and Hermione gratefully leaned into him, soaking up his care.
She felt so awful right now... She was about ninety percent sure she was pregnant, and it sounded like a complete nightmare. And even though this was what she and Harry had been trying so hard for, the realisation didn't make it any easier.
She was thirteen, and already pregnant with her first child.
"What are we going to do now?" The rhetorical question slipped from her lips before she could stop it.
Harry didn't ask for clarification, whether she was asking about their plans for the next few hours or for their future in general. Either way, the answer was fairly obvious.
"We probably need to go see Madam Pomfrey. Have her check you over again, just in case," he suggested, gently stroking her right shoulder.
"Mhmm..."
Neither of them moved, as if someone had cast a Sticking Charm on them.
"We can go a bit later, if you want," Harry offered, and Hermione let out an imperceptible sigh of relief.
"Yes... if you don't mind. I just want to sit here for a little while longer."
"Of course. Do you need anything?"
She shook her head. What could she possibly need? Food, which she'd probably throw up anyway because she was too wound up to keep anything down? Or maybe, a new fate? If only someone could bring her one...
"Are you sure? I could ask Dobby to get us some more snacks. I don't think he'd mind, especially when he finds out it's for you. I think he likes you even more than me," Harry snorted, feigning indignation and pretending to be jealous, but Hermione couldn't find the moral strength to play along with his attempt at a joke right now.
"Just... stay here with me, okay?" she asked tiredly.
He immediately became serious again.
"Of course. Come here..."
Gently pulling her towards him, Harry laid them both down on their backs in such a way that Hermione was wedged between him and the back of the sofa, but it wasn't uncomfortable because the seat beneath them stretched again, adjusting to the perfect size to fit them both. This way, she felt safe.
* * *
"Harry?" she called after a little while.
"Mm-hm?"
"Are you alright?"
"I think so… I don't know," he sighed.
"Me neither. I don't think I've quite processed it yet."
"Yeah. It's..."
"...weird."
"Very weird."
Hermione's head was resting on Harry's chest, so she could hear the strong thump of his heart. His familiar scent – a mix of simple soap and his warm skin – enveloped her consciousness, acting as a calming agent, so her own pulse gradually slowed to a normal rate. She was still in shock, but no longer on the verge of a panic attack, which was a significant improvement.
"We need to go," she said quietly, still making no move to get up.
"Don't you want to?"
"I don't know... But we'll have to tell Professor Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey... and my mum and dad anyway."
The last was the most terrifying prospect. She had already left things on a bad note with her parents, and now, just a few days later, she was going to drop the news that she was already pregnant. She was a horrible daughter for treating them this way, but could she control it now? She didn't want to die...
"Do you want to write to them?" Harry asked, his voice hollow.
"That would be a very strange letter," Hermione scoffed with irony.
"Dear Mum and Dad!
Hope you're well, because things here are very strange for me. Sorry I couldn't spend the rest of the holidays with you, but Harry and I are very busy right now... if you know what I mean. By the way, how would you feel about becoming grandparents soon? Because I'm pregnant by Harry! Isn't that just wonderful? Anyway… Happy New Year!
Your daughter, Hermione."
It sounded just absolutely brilliant, of course... She'd rather hang herself than send them something like that, even if it was the complete truth. How could she tell something so delicate and personal in a damn letter?!
"You know, you could just meet them," Harry suggested cautiously, as if reading her mind.
That would be a much more convenient option, but... did she really want to? To face them again? To argue and fight again, trying in vain to make them see her point of view? Hermione had never been able to explain to them her desire to stay at Hogwarts, and they simply wouldn't listen to her reasoning. All they knew was that their daughter was rejecting their help and their world to live with wizards...
When they found out Hermione was pregnant, it would just be another shock to them... She wasn't sure she wanted to be there when that happened.
"Can I borrow your owl?" she asked after a long pause.
It was a cowardly decision, one that would probably only increase the distance between her and her family, but Hermione simply couldn't deal with their emotions on top of everything else right now.
"Pff... Hermione, she's your owl too now, remember?" Harry teased, trying to lighten the mood, though his words were only partially a joke.
"Oh... Right. Because we're married now," Hermione retorted in kind.
"Yep. By law, all my stuff is your stuff too."
"And vice versa."
"Uh... yeah. Right. By the way..."
"Hmm?"
Harry shifted on the sofa so that he and Hermione were face-to-face again. His green eyes, behind his worn glasses, looked serious, and his expression was as if he were about to tell Hermione something important.
"I've been thinking about something lately," he began, clearly nervous. "I'm not sure yet, but I think that if it comes down to it, I could... um... buy us a house."
"Buy a house?"
"What is he talking about? Why would we need...?"
"Well, or rent a house. Or at least a flat... I'm pretty sure it won't come to that, but you... uh... don't have to worry about where we'll live, okay? My parents left me an inheritance, so..."
"Harry!" she gasped. "I'm not going to take the money your mum and dad left you!"
"Why not? It's your money too now," he protested immediately.
"But it's still..."
"No," he stopped her with a sharp tone he rarely used. "Listen, Hermione, this whole marriage thing... all of this – it's real. It's actually happening."
"I know, but..."
"I've been thinking about it a lot. You, me, this... this baby – we're all going to be together when it's born, and afterwards too... We're going to need a place to live."
"But we could live with my parents..."
"Really? Are you absolutely sure about that?" her own sarcastic inner voice chimed in, and Hermione, for all her wanting, couldn't just brush it off.
"Yeah... I guess," Harry replied slowly. "But I just want to be sure, you know?"
He was speaking almost sternly, as if from personal experience... and then it finally dawned on Hermione – Harry really was speaking from personal experience. He'd never had a home of his own, and the only place he had ever been able to stretch the truth to call such had rejected him. So his fear of being homeless was very real.
"You're right," she finally conceded. "And it's smart of you to think about the money. Are you... sure there's enough?"
It felt rather strange to be talking about something so material and personal to him, but as Harry had said, their finances were shared now, and their future could very well depend on those very finances, so she was obligated to ask.
"Well... the last time I looked, there were mountains of gold," he said, sounding rather reassuring. "But I don't know anything about buying houses and all that. We should probably check it again..."
Hermione silently agreed with him. She made a mental note to look into it as soon as she had the chance – probably in the spring or summer, when the holidays started... or closer to September, when they went to buy their school things...
She imagined herself and Harry walking into Gringotts as a married couple and requesting a statement on all the Potter finances...
"This is crazy, isn't it? We are crazy?" Harry looked at her with a hint of fear, to which Hermione responded with her own nervous smile.
"Folie à deux."
"French again? What does it mean?"
"Madness for two."
"Oh. Makes sense... Very fitting..."
* * *
It felt like they spent long hours just lying there, until at some point Hermione drifted off, succumbing to the nervous exhaustion. She woke sometime around midday to the feeling of being alone.
"Harry?" she called, her voice hoarse with sleep as she pushed herself up on one elbow.
It was quiet and dim, and instead of the "library", Hermione found herself back in the "hunting lodge", in bed, tucked under a thick duvet.
"Harry?"
"I'm here," he appeared in the Room's doorway as if on command, with another tray of food and a cellophane bag with a picture of a caduceus tucked under his arm. "I brought lunch... and something else."
"What is it?" Hermione took the bag from him, still a bit dazed, but in the next moment, any last trace of sleep vanished completely. "Oh. Is this...?"
"I thought you'd want to be sure," he replied sheepishly as Hermione tipped the contents out onto the bed – five nearly identical cardboard boxes – pregnancy tests from different manufacturers.
"Where did you get them?"
If the Room created them magically, Hermione would never be sure how truthful they were...
"I asked Dobby to bring me a few different ones," Harry said casually, taking plates off the tray and setting them on the small bedside table. "I didn't know how many we'd need, so..."
"Wait. You asked Dobby?" Hermione narrowed her eyes, looking at him in disbelief.
"Uh... yeah?"
"Harry..." she fought the urge to yell at him. "Do you think we can trust him that much?"
Harry blinked in the ensuing pause.
"Oh... sorry. I didn't think," he said, looking down in embarrassment. "But he won't tell anyone..."
For a moment, Hermione was overcome with intense annoyance and anger. How could he be so naive?! She couldn't believe he was willing to risk their entire peaceful life on the word of a house-elf he barely even knew, just because Dobby had been kind to him a couple of times.
"Fine. It doesn't matter now," Hermione tried to calm herself. "What's done is done."
There was no point in getting angry with Harry and scolding him – he was clearly already beating himself up over what he'd done. He had only wanted to help and genuinely hadn't thought it through...
Deciding not to dwell on it any further, Hermione turned her attention back to the tests. She had never held one before, having only glimpsed them a couple of times at the chemist's, but she recognised the flat, rectangular plastic stick with a small screen in the centre. On some of the tests, a single line was already drawn there, while on others, there was nothing.
The instructions for their use were all identical – she just had to urinate on them, and then wait one to five minutes, which was much faster than with the potion.
"I'll be right back," Hermione mumbled before scooping up all the tests and disappearing into the bathroom.
She would have been lying if she said her hands weren't shaking as she went through the procedure and then laid the used tests out on the tiled floor. Two magical methods had already declared her pregnant, and if these things showed her the same result...
"But deep down, you already know the answer, don't you?" Hermione bit her lower lip, hunching over the toilet lid where she waited tensely, hugging herself.
The second hand in her mind ticked towards the one-minute mark...
( POSITIVE )
Hermione swallowed, looking at the first word that appeared. But she should wait longer, because the others could be...
( I I )
( POSITIVE )
( + )
( PREGNANT )
They appeared, one after another – all exactly the same. Hermione drew in a sharp breath, hugging herself tighter.
It was real. So many different tests couldn't be wrong.
"Hermione?" Harry peeked hesitantly through the doorway. "Sorry, I knocked a few times, but you didn't answer, and I thought..."
"I'm pregnant," she cut him off, still staring at the results.
"Oh. The tests...?"
"Positive. Every single one of them," she let out a half-sob, half-laugh. "I'm pregnant, Harry."
It felt as if her entire life had just probably ended.